


Courting a Winning Bet

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: All the Stars Lead Me to You: One-shots from the Issala Adaar/Josephine Monitiliyet Romance [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Body Worship, Coitus Interruptus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Lace Harding is adorable and deserves two girlfriends, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: There’s a betting pool about whether or not the Inquisitor and her lover, Josephine, have a crush on Scout Harding. Lace is going to put a stop to this illegal gambling once and for all, but not in the way she thought she would.
Relationships: Female Adaar/Josephine Montilyet, Female Adaar/Lace Harding/Josephine Montilyet, Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Female Inquisitor/Lace Harding/Josephine Montilyet
Series: All the Stars Lead Me to You: One-shots from the Issala Adaar/Josephine Monitiliyet Romance [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896808
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Courting a Winning Bet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/gifts), [enigmalea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmalea/gifts).



“I’m telling you, the flowers are _just_ flowers.” 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Harding.” 

Lace slammed her pint down on the bar and glared up into the one sparkling dark eye of the Iron Bull. Sure, maybe he had a couple feet on her, but she’d had some of the good stuff. She could take him, if she needed to. 

Bull grinned wryly and shook his head. “So. Josephine sends you flowers and writes letters asking how you are. Boss brings you back any supply your little heart can dream up. They increased your hazard pay-” 

“I _earned_ that increase,” Lace protested, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Course you did,” Bull agreed, raising his own pint to his lips. “Doesn’t mean that they don’t have a crush on you, Harding.” 

“They do _not_.” 

“Chief’s right,” Krem said from her left, clapping a hand on her shoulder in solidarity. “Strange as it is to say.” 

“Now now, Krempuff. Let’s talk about you and our lovely waitress this evening.” 

“She’s only got eyes for your impressive, pillowy man bosoms.” Krem smirked. Lace sighed and jumped down from her barstool. The ground only moved _a little_. 

“You’re wrong and I’m gonna prove it,” she stated, putting her hands on her hips. “Then I’m taking all that money from the betting pool and I’m going to buy you pants that _don’t_ put my life at risk in the desert.” 

Krem choked on his ale and Bull guffawed loudly before reaching over to slap his sputtering second on the back so hard, poor Krem was slammed right into the edge of the counter. 

She turned on her heel and weaved through the crowd, but she caught Krem’s response just as she slipped out the tavern door. 

“Chief, don’t _you_ win if the Inquisitor makes a move tonight?” 

As _if_ the amazing, fearless, incredibly sexy Inquisitor and her adorable, kind, perfect girlfriend would ever, in their wildest dreams, make a move on Lace Harding. 

The thought made her giggle as she tripped through the courtyard and up into the Great Hall. Varric looked up as she barged in. She pointed at him and he immediately threw his hands in the air in a silent plea for mercy. “Whatever the Seeker says, I’m not responsible. Swear on my chest hair.” 

“The next time you go to step in varghest shit, I’m not stopping you.” She narrowed her eyes. 

Varric didn’t even look contrite. He simply grinned. “Found out about the bet, Freckles?” 

“Yes, and I’m putting a stop to it right now,” she declared, sailing past his table. 

“Maybe best to wait until tomorrow!” Varric called after her. 

“I’m not _sodding_ waiting just cause you think you may win this bet if I wait until tomorrow,” she yelled back. 

The only answer was his throaty chuckle. “Have it your way, then.” 

She was going to. And it wasn’t that Lace was paying attention to the Inquisitor and her lover. _Everybody_ knew that Issala Adaar liked to take her dinners in private with the Ambassador. 

Lace had never spun a flower between her fingers and wondered what they talked about. Never dreamed of them exchanging tender kisses over imported chocolates and the expensive wine from Orlais. 

She certainly had never pictured herself in the middle of them. 

...okay, maybe she had. But just a _little_ , and really, who could blame her? They were just… so beautiful. So perfect together. And it was honestly more than a little cruel for Varric and the rest to tease her for it. 

When Issala and Josephine found out about it, they’d firmly put a stop to it. Then Lace could go back to her fantasies in peace. 

She pushed in the door to the Ambassador’s office, fully prepared to interrupt their dinner, too tipsy to even consider knocking. 

And… she _really_ should have knocked. Because it looked like the Inquisitor and Josephine had foregone dinner entirely and moved straight to dessert. 

Lace stood frozen in the hallway while both of the other women whipped around to stare at her. They were on the wide, plush rug in front of the fireplace. It was a good thing they were so close to the flickering flames, because there wasn’t a stitch of clothing between the two of them. All Lace could see was scarred, pearlescent gray skin and dusky brown curves. 

Oh. _Oh no_. Was this a sin? Was the Maker going to strike her down? Possibly. _Hopefully_.

Issala’s violet eyes blinked once. Twice. She swung her startled gaze from Lace in the doorway to Josephine. For a moment they all stared at each other in bewildered, loaded silence. 

“Scout Harding,” Josephine finally began as if she was greeting any Inquisition member in her full regalia instead of her naked glory. “Do come in and close the door. I fear it’s rather drafty this evening.” 

Maybe this was the Fade. Lace didn’t _belong_ in the Fade, of course, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Weird things happened all the time. And honestly it was _far_ more likely than Lace stumbling into an intimate moment like this and not being turned into cinders _immediately_. 

“Is something wrong?” Issala shrugged her long white hair over her shoulder, hiding the pert globes of her breasts, but somehow that didn’t help Lace feel less distracted. 

“I just- I… there’s a bet. And I shouldn’t have come. This was stupid. _Really_ stupid. I’m so sorry,” she babbled, unable to tear her eyes from the glorious figures bathed in firelight. 

“A bet?” Issala echoed, mystified. Lace almost wailed.

“Yes! That you two have a _crush_ on me. And I was coming here to tell you and make them _stop_ because we’ve got better things to do than debate why you’re sending me flowers or bringing me Orlesian chocolates or…” 

“Oh,” Josephine’s lips fell into a tiny, distressed frown. “Did you not like the chocolates?” 

“No they were great-” Lace protested. “It’s just… they’re because you’re nice. You’re both so nice. And pretty. _Really_ pretty.” 

Maker, she should not have had that second drink. 

But to her shock, Issala’s skin flushed delicate pink. “You… you think _I’m_ pretty?” 

It was Lace’s turn to blink once. Twice. “Of _course_ you are. You _both_ are.” 

Issala tore her eyes from Lace to look at Josephine again. Something silent and swift passed between them before Josephine demurely nodded. When Issala looked back, her eyes were _sparkling_ with joy. 

“We… may have a crush on you,” Issala whispered softly. “I know it’s _silly_ , but… you’re so cute. And fierce. And the way you shoot your bow…” 

Lace was _definitely_ in the Fade. This couldn’t be happening. But Issala’s long, toned arm reached out, fingers curved gently. “Join us?” 

Well. If she was going to get smited by the Maker for lusting after the Herald, she may as well enjoy it, right? 

The first step felt unsteady, but the second came more eagerly. The fourth put her in reach of Issala, close enough for her small fingers to tangle with hers. Since she was on the floor, they were almost the same height, and Issala took ruthless advantage immediately, slotting her mouth over Lace’s before she could protest. 

It was nice. It was _so_ nice. Issala’s lips were wind chapped, but her calloused palms cupped Lace’s cheek so gently as her tongue pressed for entrance. It was the easiest thing in the world to give in, to allow herself to be thoroughly explored. Her heart pulsed in her ears and she reached out to grab Issala’s shoulders at the same time a very warm, silky soft body pressed against her from behind. 

Then Josephine’s gentle lips found her ear, her nose tracing the delicate shell as she pressed butterfly light kisses down her neck. Lace was trapped between them, helpless as they worked together to make her weak in the knees. 

The moment Issala released her lips, Josephine tipped her chin over Lace’s shoulder to demand a kiss of her own. She was so much softer than Issala, but there was a fierce passion in this kiss. One that threatened to ignite all the longing inside Lace and burn them all alive. 

Somehow, her pants had vanished. Along with her boots. Issala’s palms were searing on her thighs as she slowly bunched up her shirt beneath her hands. Then she paused, suddenly disoriented. 

“Lace…” she whispered, running her thumb over the long, jagged scar slashing over her abdomen. “How did you get this?” 

Josephine released her lips and Lace panted for breath desperately. “Oh, um. Crazy story. There was a sheep and it got away from the flock and I chased it down, but there was a ravine and I fell in and… well, mother said I was lucky I didn’t bleed out before the healer got there. But I _had_ to find the sheep.” 

Issala’s smile couldn’t be more tender. She leaned in and placed one sweet kiss on the tip of Lace’s nose. “You always find what we’re looking for.” 

“And we were looking for you,” Josephine murmured in her ear, helping Issala pull the shirt over her head. It was Josephine that made short work of the complicated undergarment beneath, leaving her bare before Issala’s gaze. 

Josephine’s hands ran over her curves, a gentle exploration while her lips kissed the thousands of freckles covering her shoulders. Each swipe of the long, elegant fingers over her delicate skin made her want to whimper. Then Josephine giggled and wrapped her arms tight around Lace’s waist, pressing another kiss to her neck. “I am _so_ pleased you liked the flowers.” 

“How could I resist?” Lace asked weakly. “You sure know how to spoil a girl.” 

“It is only polite when courting!” Josephine protested. “I would not want you to think our intentions were not honorable.” 

“Well, they’re maybe a little dishonorable,” Issala half-laughed. Lace giggled. 

“Can I taste you?” Issala’s eyes were dark with want. “Please?” 

Lace almost choked on her answer. “I mean. If you want.” 

Josephine pulled her backwards into her arms, cupping her full breasts in her hands and pressing a soft kiss on her head. “Allow us. We will see to all your needs.” 

As if that promise wasn’t enough to make her soaking wet, Issala chose that moment to trail more kisses up the inside of Lace’s thighs. Lace whimpered and rolled her hips eagerly, far beyond caring about looking needy. 

She _was_ needy. She needed _more_.

Josephine’s fingertips brushed over her nipples just as Issala’s breath ghosted over her core. Lace has a moment to feel embarrassed before Issala swears softly. “You’re so beautiful, Lace. I knew you would be.” 

Before she could deny it, and Lace certainly meant to, Issala’s pointed tongue slid along her folds and she could do nothing but moan helplessly and try to hold onto Josephine’s plush thighs. 

Josephine soothed her softly while Issala teased her, sampling her arousal and exploring her most secret places. She melted back into Josephine’s embrace when Issala finally slipped her tongue between her folds to explore her core. 

And then Josephine pinched her nipples lightly and Lace almost shrieked. Her hips stuttered upwards and Issala giggled, removing her tongue to slide up to the little bundle of nerves that _ached_ to be touched. 

But Maker help her, she’d never been touched like _this_. Between Josephine’s tormenting, clever fingers (she never knew they’d be so talented with more than quills) and Issala’s deft tongue (the Inquisitor had always seemed too _quiet_ ), she was a mess in _moments_. And yet Issala continued to ravish her, _savor_ her like those fancy chocolates they all loved. Josephine kept whispering soft, musical words of endearment in her ear and playing her body like an instrument. 

Then Issala’s fingers slipped inside her fluttering core and Lace’s moans could probably be heard the whole way to the Western Approach. She rocked into the touch, greedy and desperate. Josephine allowed her, _encouraged_ her, and Issala’s tongue swirled _just right_. 

Lace screamed both their names as she crested the wave of the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had, riding out the sharp jerks of her body while Issala hummed her satisfaction and Josephine held her tightly. 

When Issala looked up, her lips were shiny with slick and it made Lace’s stomach roll with anticipation. 

“It is my turn now, yes?” Josephine asked in her ear. Lace grinned from ear to ear. 

The only issue, really, was that Bull was going to win that bet after all. 


End file.
